


We're all of us haunted (and haunting)

by astralchaos



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Corpses, Depression, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27393733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralchaos/pseuds/astralchaos
Summary: They had each other. They would always have each other, or at least that was what Jon had told himself, hoping against all odds that they would get a happy ending.Oh, how wrong he had been.OrIn which Not!Sasha kills Martin as soon as he and Jon arrive back from the Lonely.Jon, desperate, heartbroken and devastated, not willing to lose anyone else at this point, especially not Martin (not after Sasha, after Tim), decides to bind his soul to the Catalogue of the Trapped Dead.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	We're all of us haunted (and haunting)

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea ive had for quite a while. It was just sitting in my wip folder and i suddenly felt like finishing the first part.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ghosts don't haunt us. That's not how it works. They're present among us because we won't let go of them."

The smell was unbearable.

It felt heavy in a way no smell had any right to be, sour with a hint of pain and madness that still lingered in Jon's mind as his shaky hand tightened on the scalpel. 

He willed the tool to move, to keep slicing, but as blood bubbled out from under soft, pale skin, his stomach turned and he rushed outside the faintly lit room, shutting the door behind him. 

His back hit the cool wall of the tunnels with a thud, and he slid down, legs giving out under him. 

What on Earth was he doing? He wasn’t strong enough for this. He didn’t have the stomach for it. 

But was he desperate enough to try again?

His gaze fell on the scalpel he still gripped tight in his hand, and his vision blurred as his mind registered the blood dripping from it. The room started spinning once again and he would have vomited on the floor if his stomach had anything to bring back up. As it was, he'd been running on empty for days.

His stomach and chest convulsing, Jon lurched forward, his free hand tugging at his messy hair. His glasses slid down and clattered on the ground, the sound muted in his ears.

He tried recalling how he looked like when he was still alive, but every memory of him was overwritten by the pale corpse that lay motionless in that otherwise empty room. 

He tried remembering his voice, his voice that was always warm and kind – except when it was cold and distant, and _I really loved you, you know—_

He was spiraling, he knew. 

But he needed to concentrate. He needed to finish what he started. 

He couldn't lose him too. Not Martin. He _just_ got him back. 

Jon took a shaky breath, the dry, stale air tickling his throat and lungs, and he forced back the sob that threatened to burst out of his chest. He stood up, steeling himself, his clutch tight on the scalpel once again, and the door closed behind him with a soft _click._

His glasses stayed forgotten where they fell. 

Not like he needed them anymore. 

* * *

_When they had arrived, they were both still brimming with happiness, the feeling of being loved, of having been found and seen bubbling in their chests and threatening to overspill – but they had kept it to themselves, the only proof that anything had changed had been their still intertwined hands, and Jon had wanted to stay like that with Martin forever._

_They had each other. They would always have each other, or at least that was what Jon had told himself, hoping against all odds that they would get a happy ending._

_Oh, how wrong he had been._

_It had only taken Jon a few seconds to register the too thin, too tall form of a creature that had way too many joints, but he hadn't been fast enough, and the next moment all he had seen was the blood dripping from the corner of Martin's lips, his eyes wide and unbelieving as he had stared at the sharp limb that impaled him._

_Not-Sasha had chuckled eerily as it retracted its hand? claw? and Martin had coughed weakly before crumpling in on himself, falling to the floor with a dull thud._

_"Hello, Archivist."_

_Jon's mind had filled with static._

* * *

He hadn't slept in days, but it didn't matter because he finally _did_ it. 

Carving the words on the flayed piece of skin was a lot harder than he expected (not like he ever wondered what it would feel like to carve a story into dead skin, but still), and after hours of standing hunched over this wretched project, sewing the page into its rightful place (right after one that was visibly torn out) he was finally finished. 

He knew it worked. He just _knew._

His eyes that burned from lack of sleep focused on the dark letters he just finished putting there, and he began mouthing the words as he read. 

He felt the presence before he even saw him. 

Jon sniffled, the smell of blood permanently stuck in his nose, and he lowered the book. His gaze fell upon the apparition (ghost? spirit? soul?), and his breath caught in his throat at the sight.

Martin looked… different, yet still the same. He looked just like he did before Not-Sasha killed him, but he looked muted, like all the color was drained from him. The slump of his shoulders was more pronounced than ever, and the widening of his eyes made the dark circles under them stand out even more. 

His expression was torn between anger, sorrow and pity, looking every bit like a twisted, dark caricature of the man he used to be. 

Jon's chest filled with warmth nonetheless, and he felt tears stream down his cheeks as he took a tentative step forward, hand already reaching out. 

"Jon," Martin said, and Jon wanted to hug him, even if his voice wasn't _quite_ like it used to be, because it was _him_ and he had him back— "What have you done?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 💕  
> Please dont forget to leave a comment! 
> 
> (Theres a second part coming maybe, if my adhd brain lets me write it lol)


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